Sorting
by new moongirl
Summary: What chance in the world did Zuko have in beating an ancient magical hat? none he decided as he resigned himself to his fate, hoping briefly that his father wouldn't be too disappointed, but knowing otherwise. Rated for Language.
1. the Hat

Zuko shuffled into the Great Hall with the First Years and his sister. It was, he contemplated, gazing around at the enchanted ceiling and floating candles, even more awe-inspiring when seen in person. The picture in Hogwarts A History, couldn't even compare.

He felt somewhat awkward traveling to the front of the hall with the munchikins. His father, had insisted upon having private tutors for him from the moment he could walk and talk, but as his sister joined him in his lessons and then surpassed him entirely, he found himself lacking in the malicious cruelty needed to master the Dark Arts that his father Ozai and sister Azula so coveted. Lord knows he'd tried. But some of those spells shouldn't have seen the light of day, and he couldn't cast some of them just on principal. His Father called him weak; too weak to even speak those wretched incantations. He didn't care if "_they were just muggles_." They were _people_. And so Ozai had given up on ever making his son a "real man" and focused solely on his lovely, malicious daughter.

But even as he fell behind, he kept up in his other areas of study. Herbology was decent, though not his favorite, potions he was close to exceptional, charms he liked, and divination was just a burr in his side. After three years of "lazing about" as his father claimed, he and his sister had been carted off to Hogwarts with no explanation. Except of course for the words, "you'd better get into Slytherin." Zuko ground his teeth. How could he control that? The history book said that a _hat_ sorted them out. He couldn't control or hold sway of the decisions of a _enchanted hat_.

Catching his sister's questioning gaze, he shrugged, turning back to the front where more kids where being sorted.

Being a "transfer student" of some sort, he and Azula would be sorted _last_. Personally, he thought that this was un-necessary and inconvenient. Why did they need to draw even more attention to the new students? Wasn't it nerve wracking enough without all the singling out? People had already formed cliques in his year, how was he supposed to find anyfriends when they were all taken? he drew the line at his only companion being his baby sister. That was just pathetic. He cursed who ever decided upon this insane mental torture, it was making him anxious and grumpy.

Godric Grinffindor cringed as he glided along in the spirit world, wondering what he'd done now.

Watching the crowd diminish until they were the only one's left, Zuko's fists clenched harder, nails biting into his palms. _But of course_, he thought, as the headmaster, _Dumbledore_ if he recalled correctly, decided that he needed to make an entire speech in order to explan their sudden appearance and the unique circumstances of their abrupt placement within the school. Nothing could be fast and painless for him could it? He wanted to punch something. Mainly the grinning old man with twinkling eyes calling forth his sister.

Her sorting, had to be the shortest he had witnessed thus far. It was barley a second before the ragged garment was shouting _Slytherin!_ Into the hall, his sister flouncing off to the table in green, a wicked smile crawling onto her painted lips._Bitch…_

Stalking up to the tiny stool, he sat closing his eyes so he didn't have to watch everybody else watch _him_. New people always made him feel weary. His only real social interaction was Uncle, Azula and Ozai. And two of those people weren't much in the way of company.

_Let's see, let's see. Hmm…very interesting, very interesting indeed. Nothing like the conniving little snake from before. Are you sure you're related?_

He growled at the hat mentally,_ Of course I'm sure. Mother was never unfaithful._

_Hmm, spirfire and sure of yourself, you're smart, but not overly so…now where shall I put you?_

He forced himself to keep breathing_, Slytherin?_ The hat actually laughed at his hesitant plea.

_Oh my dear boy, I would never put you in such a snakes den. You'd be eaten up in no time flat!_

He knew that…after all his _sister _ had been placed there. But he could always hope right?

Feeling rather angry at himself for _being _such a disappointment, Zuko figured he Might as well prepare himself to be the failure his father always proclaimed him to be. Why oh why couldn't he just bend his moral compass into something deformed like Azula's?

_So what will it be Zuzu? Hufflepuff of Gryffindor?_

Zuko paused, unsure which would upset his father more. _Meh, _he gave up_ might as well go all the way. No point doing things in halves…which would make a Slytherin Father most disappointed in you?_

Laughing out loud now, the Magical sorting hat stemmed it's chuckling, finally yelling _Griffindor!_

**Yeah…I wouldn't ask where this came from…but if you must know I read avocado_love's harry potter/ATLA crossover with Zuko, Tao and Haru, and wondered if Gryffindor **_**was **_**where Zuko would be put, so I had a debate between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and this is where it lead me. =_= I **_**might **_**continue this. **_**Might.**_** Depends…cause im still working on multiples of others…sigh. I should really finish my sories before I post them. So this one had no promises. But if you want to be on the safe side, you can add it to your alert. Lol.**

**Thanks muches-new_moongirl.**


	2. the Letter

Zuko shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, eyes roving through the sea of students that occupied the dinning commons. Last night had been somewhat uncomfortable, with the tentative questions from his dorm mates. So far all he recalled about their names was that the red head was Ron and the pudgy one was Neville(they had left the biggest impressions on him.). The sixth years where…accepting, but nothing could change the fact that he was _new_ and they had been together for the whole of their schooling. None of them had seemed approachable as friends though, none accommodating enough. They all had their own cliques and those where already set. It was Hell wading through the tense atmosphere. Apparently, he was…intimidating to some of them. _Maybe_, Zuko thought_, they could sense the taint on a subconscious level_. Chewing a bit more viciously, Zuko frowned, debating the pros and cons of hitting his head on the table.

Azula was a problem. She'd been waiting for him outside his dorm room last night and, after sending a portrait in to get him, she had started her usual put downs. He had growled and grunted, glaring all the while, but he knew that she was right about one thing. "Dad is going to kill you Zuzu. He _said_ you had to get into Slytherin, and only Slytherin." She'd had, of course, mailed him before, and so it was with mild trepidation that Zuko found himself sitting wearily in the great hall awaiting the letter from his most loving Lord and master that was sure to come containing his fate.

He had a feeling that whatever was going to arrive for him, _wasn't_ going to be good.

Resting his head on his right hand, he sighed, brows furrowing, settling in for the dreadful wait. The swish of robes and the sound of someone cautiously sitting across from him, interrupted his silent brooding, and his eyes quickly caught sight of another human being in maroon robes. It was hard _not_ to notice, with that bright red hair…she had a resemblance to one of his dorm mates, that boy Ron also had bright red hair…and freckles…and…well, she was like a female version of Ron. He raised an eyebrow, "...Weasley?" It wasn't demeaning of harsh, just a simple question, but apparently, from the way she winced, she hadn't expected his voice to be quite so austere.

Her reluctant nod allowed his eyes to droop once more, and settle into his normal menacing air. "E-excuse me…?" he grunted, but didn't open his eyes again, laughing ay himself at how she squirmed. He might not be as good at this as his sister or father, but he could make people uncomfortable if he wanted to. "Would you-" Owls flooded the great hall, and Zuko didn't spare the blushing teen another thought.

_The owl…_it landed neatly in front of him, dropping the letter into his hands, accepting a small piece of scone, before taking flight again. "Who sent you mail?" The Weasley girl was still here. He frowned a little in her direction, and she promptly fell silent. Fingering the envelope, Zuko sensed there was more than ink and parchment within the innocent crème paper. But there was nothing he could do about it, so, sighing he tore open the top and regretted it instantly, as pain erupted on the left half of his face. He resisted the urge to clutch at it, suspecting that if he did, whatever was eating at his face would also start burning his hand. Taking out the letter inside, he felt the tears that he was holding back from the pain, start flowing freely. He had been disowned. Of course he had. He hadn't really expected anything less, though hope and self delusion had always been his strong point.

The girl across from him was making a fuss, and as the faculty table rushed toward him, he set the letter on fire. Elemental magic had always been his specialty, and although he wasn't as adept at it as Azula(he never was at anything, and probably never would be), it wasn't a common skill. Whatever was burning his face, judging from his father's expertise in all thanks dark arts, was most likely either a)incredibly painful 2)lethal 3)permanently damaging 4)incurable or 5) all of the above. The safest way to deal with this, he couldn't think of at the moment. The pain was too much. Burning would be better than this. Fist clenching his robes, the idea stuck and as he choked on a sob,and without much deliberation, he set his face of fire just like the letter. Fire cleanses, he recalled from one of his teachers lectures. It's just too destructive to do much good for usual ills. Good thing this wasn't "usual."

The whole hall, which had been in a panic before, gasped as the new students face erupted into flame. And Azula's watery smirk momentarily turned into a look of horror. The mask slipped back on and her usual sneer became malicious once more. She was relieved to see the fire go out, but sneered once it did, walking out of the hall. She needed to collect herself somewhere. The girl's bathroom seemed like an appropriate place.

**AN: Big thanks to Rinnala, Countdown andFantasticMisticalWonder for their support. It is thanks to you that this chapter was written and added ^w^**

**OK, I promise:**

**Zuko will NOT be paired with Ginny Weasley(I just thought it would be funny for her to have a crush on our lucky Zuko) and…**

**The other characters will come in at some point, and lastly,**

**Azula will have some kind of heart and affection for her family. I see her as a much more complicated character than just full of hate.**

**Yep, so thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will be up whenever I get around it it. ;D**

**ALSO I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender.**


	3. the Scar

It was a few seconds before the _lack_ of pain registered. He had, in a word, _expected_ pain. All his life, his father never allowed the Medic's to give him any type of pain-relievers. Not even that when he broke his arm as a child, was he allowed such kindness. Pain was, in his father's words, "to be his teacher," and "made him stronger." In the face of such commandments, who was Zuko, Ozai's loyal son, to question? Hell, if his father said the sky was purple than it _was_.

And so, it was with much surprise that the teen found himself snoozing, in what he supposed, was the hospital wing, completely fine… or at least _feeling_ completely fine. Really, even if everything was healed, Zuko wasn't sure if he was permanently damaged in some way. Maybe he was missing a limb, and just couldn't tell yet. Blinking his eyes open, Zuko, grimaced. He'd read in books that sterile, medical rooms were usually blindingly bright and white. They hadn't lied. His retinas _burned_.

The third thing he noticed, first being the lack of pain and second being the blinding wretchedness that was the hospital wing, was that his left eye didn't open all the way. He was almost afraid to touch it. Maybe he was horribly disfigured? He wouldn't have been surprised. He _had_ tried to _burn off half his FACE_. Holding back some nasty mutterings, the teen wrenched himself into sitting position, determined to (A) find a bathroom and (B) find a mirror. If both happened to be in the same place, than all the better for him. Of course with his luck, they'd be on opposite sides of the _school_, or something just as unfair.

Getting out of bed proved harder than expected. He tilted one way and then the other, holding firmly onto the bed frame in his distress. It was probably a side effect of something they'd given him…or it might be because his range of vision had changed. He didn't really care either way, he'd adjust quickly enough.

Regaining his footing, he padded gently across cool stone, through the lavatory door, and sighed. He was almost tempted to avoid his reflection. But then, he had always been the type of person to face things head on. Glancing right and left, he turned toward the toilet first. _Procrastinating…_ he scolded himself mentally. Nothing good ever came out of procrastinating…unless there was a serial killer waiting just outside the door. He chuckled at the absurdity of the thought.

_Time to face the ugly truth,_ he gathered his courage. He'd always been told that he was a decently handsome young man. The "spitting image of his mother and father." He'd always wanted to rip out their eyeballs after such a comment. Neither was a compliment; for his father was a psycho, and he most certainly wasn't _womanly_.

Approaching the sink, his eyes closed one hand gripping the rim of the sink as the other's fingers ran over cold glass. Biting his lip, he snapped his eyes open in a moment of decision and grimaced. It looked like a bad burn, and he was right. Half of his face was now toughened scar tissue. Tracing the disfigurement, he felt the urge to cry, and promptly covered his new scar. He didn't want to see the proof of his disownment, of his father's disapproval. Putting down his hand, and taking one last glance at the mirror, Zuko pushed himself off the sink, before slinking back into the main wing. Only to be attacked (really there was no better word) by the nurse.

Ugh…she wasn't his mother, why was she making such a big deal over his health? He was fine, he could see (reasonable well) walk, talk, and do complicated arithmetic. "Now," she said, "I'm sure it was a shock to see your face in such a state, but there was nothing that we could do about it. Usually when the right poultices and potions are given in a timely manner, scarring can be avoided. But in your case, the combination of the curse and, the, umm, _magical-based_ fire, led to the irreversible scarring. But don't worry young man, Professor Snape says that he's been working on a scar removing formula for a while, and it may prove useful to you when he's finished with it."

The patient grunted. What was he supposed to say? "yay! Thank you so much! I just can't wait for that day in the far future when this scar can be removed forever?" He wouldn't be cruel enough to give himself such hope. Closing his eyes, he opted for the least painful way to spend his time in the hospital wing: by sleeping. That _was_ the plan.

Until his _sister_ came waltzing into the wing, all smiles and roses. Deadly thorny roses that is. "oh Zuzu, Zuzu, _Zuzu_."

**AN: and I'll just leave you there in suspense…and smirk evilly at the page. So sorry it took so long, hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon…and lot longer.**

**-newmoongirl**


	4. the Visit

It was with some level or trepidation, that Azula approached the hospital wing. She expected many things. Well, not many of those things together, but she suspected something bad.

What she got, was up to her expectations, and she found that the sight of her brother, swathed in hospital white, and half his face, a blistering _red_, stark against the pure surroundings, and his natural pale pigment, _revolting_. The bile was rising in her stomach, threatening to come out of her mouth, but what came out of her mouth wasn't bile at all, but words. Nasty unforgivable words. Words that she wasn't certain she wanted to say, much less believe.

She loved Zuko in her own unusual way. It wasn't what someone normal would consider affection, but more of the barbs she threw at him weren't simply out of malicious intent. It was just the way they functioned together as a team, and sometimes she could see that Zuko knew this too. They weren't supposed to get along, but playing off of one another was what they were made for. Now her world was falling apart at the seams, rupturing, burning to ash, disintegrating to _dust._

Zuko was part of her world. Always was, always had been. Even if his proven function was to make her life easier, to be the comparison to which she was held to... And since he was such a spectacular failure, it wasn't hard for her to excel. All too easy in fact. And so that was what she had come to expect. For Zuko to always be there. Since he was, _always there_. Whenever she was about to be blamed, to be told she wasn't good enough, he'd do something even more obsolete, and make her look like the perfect sibling. He was, in a sense, her savior in that aspect, not that she'd admit it even to herself.

That was her own given function, the perfect one. The daughter that didn't make mistakes, was tough as steel, as sure as stone, and had a heart black as pitch. What was she without Zuko? Was she still the perfect daughter? Was her identity still safe? She wasn't sure. Nothing was sure, because she had always been sure that Zuko would be there, and now he couldn't. C_ouldn't_ be there. For her.

But she was functioning as she normally would. When in doubt, go and chew out Zuko. It had always worked before, but now, now it _wasn't_. Because she could see the _red_ scar around an amber eye, the same color as hers, and she realized, if only briefly, that it _could_ have been her, if they had been born differently. If _she_ had been the failure, the first born, perhaps even the boy.

It was like looking in a mirror. And that was what Zuko was, the other side of her mirror. The other side of her coin. The white to her black, the yang to her yin. Her stomach was still rolling, but she steadfastly ignored it. What was she without her other half? She didn't know. She wished she'd never had to look down this road, never had to travel it.

"Father will never take you back you know." She spouted, realizing as she said it, the truth of her words. Her father had marked her brother. Even if it was unintentional. The intent was probably to wipe him from the face of the earth. To erase the stain that he represented to their purely Slytherin line. But now Zuko was scared so that he would remember his failure every time he looked in the mirror. She didn't want to remember it either, but now whenever she looked at herself, she'd notice the lack of it, she'd remember that her features now contrasted with her brother's, when time after time they'd been told how they looked_ alike_.

Azula, strangely enough, wanted to go and hug her brother. Throw her arms around his shoulders and hold on tight before finally releasing her forbidden tears into his sleeve where no one, not even herself, could see. But just like the bile she pushed the impulse down. It was silly anyway. She still had to hold her façade. The mask of the perfect daughter that belonged on her face, _was her face_. As she watched her older sibling clench at blankets in fury, she ended her malicious spiel with the same beginning lines, "Zuzu, zuzu, _zuzu._´ for some reason, her words now resembled a plea.

=======…..=======

"Who's that?"

A bushy haired Hermione glanced up from studying her new schedule, "That's Zuko Hinote. We forgot to mention him when you came back all bloody. Kind of distracting, you know."

"Yeah mate,"Ron chimed in, "but didn't you notice the extra bed in our room?"

"Not really. He a transfer? We've never had a transfer before. I mean they were common enough in muggle school, but…" Harry trailed off uncertain.

For her part, Hermione sighed dramatically, finally putting her memorized schedule for the day away, finally ready to fully participate in the conversation. "Zuko Hinote, six year academically, first year physically. Comes from a famous line much like the Malfoys' complete with reputation for the dark arts. He's the first of his line to be a Gryffindor, and he was home schooled for the first years of his education. He's pure blood through and through, and he's been in the hospital wing since yesterday morning, which is probably why you didn't see him."

Ron shrugged, "He went to bed pretty early the first night too, I don't think you were the only one who didn't meet him. Kinda gloomy, reminds me a bit of Malfoy." Harry made a face. "Yeah, I didn't like him much."

Hermione gave a huff, "Of course you wouldn't care for anyone that even slightly resembled Draco, but your sister thinks he's quite the handsome one. She's been ignoring Dean since he got here." Both males blinked.

"Ginny likes him?"

"What?"

"She was trying to talk to him yesterday before the _incident_, but he didn't seem very interested. And he looked preoccupied."

"Is that right?" Harry said, digging into his meal again, intent on digesting something before he had to brave the world of wizard schooling, "He just better not be connected to Voldemort."

Ron winced and let out a grunt of agreement, while Hermione scoffed softly to herself, nibbling of some toast. They had enough to deal with, when Malfoy was acting suspicious, they didn't need another trail to follow.

======….======

Zuko chose to ignore the stares that were directed his way the second day of classes. Madam Promfry had insisted he stay for a while longer, but he'd already missed one day of classes, and the prospect of falling behind held little appeal for him.

Not being a breakfast person, the transfer sat and grabbed an apple to munch on, hey he had to at least have some energy to last till lunch. Taking out his schedule, Zuko studied the classes he'd be attending for the next year. NEWT classes, he recalled McGonagall calling them.

He had, or course, taken his OWL's at home. A ministry official had showed up on afternoon, and Zuko had taken the tests, not really knowing why he was being examined. Now he understood and was glad he'd done as well as he had. His head of House had strolled in yesterday around noon, and approved his classes, asking about his condition and generally making sure he knew that he could come to her if he needed anything. Zuko wasn't quite sure what to make out of that. Where people normally so helpful? Uncle was, but it was generally known in his house hold that Uncle was strange. Zuko'd figure out the social system used in the real world eventually.

Looking at the classroom numbers, Zuko frowned. Having never before attended Hogwarts, he had no idea where these places happened to be. Swallowing down his annoyance at have to rely on someone else, he looked for the closest person, which happened to be a girl with short auburn hair. "Umm…excuse me." She turned and paused in the idle chatter he friends had engaged her in. She smiled at him, but eyed him expertly, lingering on his newly formed scar. "Could you tell me where these rooms are?" he held out his schedule, and almost as a forethought, "Please."

Reaching out, she took it at his request, and nodded, "Let's see…" she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "I'll sketch you a rough map. It's easier that way."

He nodded in appreciation. "Thank you." While waiting for her to finish, he was struck by his lack of manners. Not that he used them much. The best way to deal with his father was to avoid at all costs and stay silent when in his presence. Ursa hadn't taught him much in the way of greeting strangers, but one thing she had taught him was; _always introduce yourself first._ He swallowed. "I'm Zuko Hinote, by the way."

The awkwardness of the late introduction didn't go unnoticed, as girl glanced up, looking slightly surprised. "I know." Then she smiled. "_Everyone_ knows who you are." a smirk, "I am Suki Kiyoshi. Fifth year student and president of the girl's Martial Arts club." She finished her markings and handed him the paper, ink still wet. "Good luck getting to class on time. Also, the stairwells move, so be careful of your route. You might end up somewhere else." He nodded and smiled briefly. Grabbing his bag so he could go searching for his transfiguration class. As he left, he heard Suki's friends burst into excited chatter. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they had to say about him.

=====…..====

**AN: And thus out first encounter with the trio. They don't seem too fond of our lovely Zuko do they? Oh well. **

**At least Suki seems to be OK with him. Don't worry, she still likes Sokka…at least I think so. ;D**

**Now then, as to why this is so late…I decided that I needed to re-read the 6****th**** Harry Potter book , so that I could just enclose our lovely Avatar character(s) into it. And as I was reading, all I could think of was… "Why is Harry/Ron being such a ****douche**** jerk?" and "Since when did Ginny become a girl-stud-muffin?" Seriously. I don't remember her being mentioned all that much in the past few books. Was she? Ugh. But I was debating whether Zuko should come into possession of the Half-Blood Prince's potion's book, and decided no. Because:**

**1-I already established that he missed the first day of Potions when the book was handed out, and**

**2-It would probably mess up the plot too much. **

**So Harry got to have the book. Good for him. I know it wasn't a very long chapter, and some of you were probably expecting something spectacular, and I'm sorry to have disappointed you. Hopefuly a new chapter will bring more exciting ventures.**

**Also, if there are mistakes, please tell me where so that I can fix them.**

**I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender nor Harry Potter.**


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